Personal Crisis
by dark rolling sea
Summary: Sequel to Crisis...Mac must deal wtih a personal crisis in his life. MacLindsay...Rating changed to M.
1. Missing

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or any characters associated with the show. I make no money from this writing, it's just for fun. Reed Taylor is mine. **

**AN: OK! So this came into my mind and I'm going to try to run with it…no promises. But it is a part two to Crisis. So I would recommend reading that first if you want to know how Mac and Lindsay got together. Anyway, here you go part one. Let me know what you think! dark rolling sea.**

**Chapter One: Missing**

Mac woke early in the morning, like he usually did. His eyes opened up to the sleeping body next to him. He reluctantly untangled himself from Lindsay and rose from the bed. After a quick shower and dressing in a suit he ended up in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast wafted back to the bedroom and Lindsay slowly sniffed the air as she came out of her slumber.

She ran her hand along the bed, noticing that Mac was no longer with her. She opened her eyes and sighed, before the food brought the smile back to her face. She got up and headed for the kitchen wrapped in a robe. She stopped in the doorway and watched. Mac turned with the omelets on the plate and took them to the table. After sitting down he looked up at Lindsay and smiled.

"Joining me? Or sleeping all day?"

"Stop it," Lindsay replied with a shake of her head. "It's only seven in the morning right now."

"I've been up for over an hour."

"That's because you never sleep," she replied sitting down in her chair. Mac's smile broadened, before he shoveled a forkful of omelet into his mouth. They spent the rest of breakfast in a companionable silence. When they were done, Lindsay washed up the dishes while Mac went for the morning paper. Lindsay then took a quick shower and dressed for work.

They left the apartment together and rode into the lab. Once there, Mac gave Lindsay a kiss before he headed to his office and Lindsay headed for the lab. They didn't have an active case running, but it wasn't going to be a slow morning. Danny came into the lab and walked up next to Lindsay and greeted her with a smile.

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning, Danny," Lindsay replied cheerily. Danny grinned at her. "What?"

"Have a good night, Montana?" Danny asked mischievously. Lindsay swatted his arm and shook her head.

"We've got a body," Mac said walking into the room. He handed the details to Danny and told Lindsay to go with him. Mac then walked from the room and made his way back to his office.

When they arrived at the crime scene, they split up the duties and went to work. Lindsay stood in the middle of the small living room of a two bedroom apartment and stared at the young body sitting against the wall. The victim had yet to be identified. The occupant of the apartment, Christian Manor, had come home after working a night shift and found the body slumped against the wall. He immediately called 911.

The victim looked to be a teenager, with short red hair, that was spiked on the top of the head. He had green eyes, which had become dull with death. He was small, but had a solid muscular build. His hands were folded in his lap. He looked like he was simply sitting against the wall, except for the bullet hole in his forehead. His clothes were clean and neat, designer brands. He was not a street hood looking for shelter. He had expensive tennis shoes on, Lindsay noticed.

Lindsay snapped pictures of the body while Danny talked to the apartment occupant. She studied his position and the splatter pattern behind him on the wall. The ME came in and squatted down next to her with his equipment.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"Not at all," Lindsay replied standing up and moving towards Danny.

"And you've never seen this kid before?" Danny was asking Manor.

"No man," Manor replied gnawing on the nail of his index finger.

"Any idea of why he was in your apartment?"

"No. Like I said. I work nights. I come home every day at seven AM. Today I walk through the damn door and there he is. Sitting there like that," Manor says as his eyes dull over and his face goes a shade paler.

"Have you had problems in the past, people breaking in?" Lindsay asked.

"No, never. I'm on the fourteenth floor. Not too many people break in on fourteenth floor."

"Any threats from gang members? Suspicious people following you to and from work?" Danny added.

"No. At least I don't think so. I mean I guess someone could follow me, but I didn't notice," Manor replied shaking his head slowly.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Manor," Danny replied turning away. Lindsay came up next to him and they both stopped to observe the crime scene. "What do you think, Montana?"

"I don't know, Danny. Kid is dressed in high end clothes, expensive tennis shoes. But no ID, wallet, or money on him. He's seemingly in a stranger's apartment, with a bullet in his head. Doesn't make much sense."

"No, it doesn't. Any sign of forced entry?"

"No. I went over the door, the lock wasn't jimmied, the jamb is still in tact, no scuff marks on the wood, no signs of forced entry."

"Mr. Manor, do you use your deadbolts?" Danny asked turning towards the man who found the body.

"Who doesn't in New York City?" the man replied incredulously. Danny nodded.

"And it was still engaged when you came home?"

"Nothing was different from when I left. Except him," Manor replied pointing at the kid against the wall. Danny turned back to Lindsay.

"This doesn't make sense at all."

"I guess first step is getting an ID on the kid. Get his picture out and around. Look for missing person reports."

"Let's do it," Danny replied. They wrapped up at the apartment and then left for the lab.

He sat and watched as the two CSIs worked the crime scene. The apartment on the fourteenth floor was directly across from the office he was currently renting. This little exercise had taken quite a while to set up, finding the right victim, a suitable place to stage the scene, and the ability to watch them work. It was the fourth setup he had constructed waiting for her.

The first three he had to abandon his plan. Detective Taylor had sent the wrong investigators out. Each time he had to start on a new way to draw out the one CSI that he wanted. With each failure his frustration grew, but this time, seeing her there made his award that much sweeter in the end. They were wrapping up. He needed to move quickly.

He set down his surveillance equipment and took hold of the Glock 9MM and clutched it in his sweaty palm. He tucked the gun into his coat pocket and left the safety of his rented office. Walking briskly to the elevator, he took it to the ground floor. He wiped the sweat off his forehead as he exited the car.

Walking quickly from the building he jogged across the street and came up to the building as the CSIs were making their way down the stairs. He pulled the Glock from his pocket and rushed the man walking with her. They were talking and neither saw him coming. He discharged a single round and watched as the man spun awkwardly and let out a squawk before hitting the stairs hard.

His prize froze in surprise as her partner hit the ground. She reached for her own gun but he was quicker. He pranced up to the fallen man and stepped on his chest. The man under his boot let out a groan and the blood spilling from a shoulder wound made a smile appear. He then looked up at the woman and put the gun to her head. Cocking his head to the side he quickly brought the side of the gun up and struck the woman across the temple.

She collapsed and he caught her and spun around. The wounded CSI grabbed his leg as he attempted to walk away with his catch. He whirled slightly and brought the gun up. The man on the stairs abruptly let go and spun to the side to avoid the discharge, but the bullet caught him and he cried out in pain. He had to hurry. People had witnessed his deed. He rushed toward the car parked on the street and tossed the woman into the back seat. He smiled as he slid behind the wheel and drove away from the scene.

Danny gasped for air as the pain ripped through his body. He watched the car driving away and tried to tuck the information away in his brain. His vision was blurry since his glasses had been knocked off his face. He couldn't read the license plate number. He swore and tried to move his left arm. He looked over his body as he wiggled himself into a sitting position against the bottom step.

The first round had torn into his shoulder, the second round and gone through his ribcage on the same side. The blood was soaking into his shirt, and dripping down to the pavement. He felt himself growing colder and knew he would be in shock soon from loss of blood. He reached for his cell phone and punched in 911, but before he could hit send a uniform officer burst from the door behind him.

Danny looked up wearily, as the fog of shock wisped over him. He struggled to breathe, each breath seemingly taking more and more energy to produce. The uniform grabbed the radio from his belt and yelled into it, but Danny couldn't hear what he was saying. He felt his eyes droop with exhaustion and knew he shouldn't give in. He fought it, but it was more than he could muster and he soon felt the blackness overtake him.

Mac was walking back to his office when he heard the phone ringing. He pushed through the glass door and came up to his desk. After picking up the handset and placed it against his ear sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Detective Taylor," he said into the phone.

"Messer has been shot, and Monroe is missing," Flack's voice slammed into Mac's ear. He nearly dropped the phone as his gut clenched. He thought he was going to vomit as the room started to spin. The blood rushed through his head as his heart rate tripled. Stella was walking past his door and noticed the look on his face and the paleness of his skin. She stopped and came in, a concerned look on her face.

"What?" Mac managed to croak out.

"Happened outside the crime scene. They took Messer to Jacobi Medical Center," Flack continued. "I'm on my way now."

"And Lindsay?" Mac whispered.

"Sorry, Mac. From what I hear, it doesn't sound good. Two witnesses say they saw a man shoot Messer and take Lindsay with him in a car."

Mac dropped the phone and pitched forward. He caught himself by gripping the edge of his desk. Stella rushed forward and caught his shoulders, bringing him back up. She picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said hesitantly.

"Jesus, Stella, is Mac still there?"

"He just about did a header off his desk, what's going on?" Stella continued as she held Mac upright. Flack explained to Stella what had happened and Stella told him they were on their way. She hung up the phone and pinned Mac with her eyes. He slowly brought his face up, wide eyed and full of fear.

"How could this happen?" he croaked out as the tears threatened to fall. Stella took a deep breath.

"She's going to be ok, Mac. We'll find her. First let's go see what Danny has to say," Stella replied prodding Mac to come with her. He nodded slowly and followed her out the door, lost in his own world.

He suddenly stopped Stella with a tug on her arm. Stella looked at him with curiosity as she saw the pain and panic in his eyes. It was something she had not seen in him for a very long time and she wondered if he was thinking about losing Lindsay. She waited for him to say something.

"Stella, it's not just Lindsay," he said in a whisper, as he struggled to keep from hyperventilating. Stella's eyebrows came together as she scrunched her face in confusion.

"What's the matter?"

"Lindsay's pregnant," Mac said as a new wave of panic threatened to knock him down. Stella steadied him and nodded her understanding, before she tugged him along with more urgency. They needed to find her, and fast.

TBC…


	2. Forces Unite

**Disclaimer on chapter one.**

**AN: Here is chapter two! Xyber116 asked how long between in a review…that's answered here if the rest of you were wondering. Otherwise on with the show, leave your remarks at the end, you know how it works. dark rolling sea.**

**Chapter Two: Forces Unite**

Reed Taylor sat at his desk, sighing with discontent. It had been almost a year since his undercover mission in New York had left him in the hospital. His shoulder had healed, with minor complications. It slid from place on occasion if he stressed it beyond its abilities. His nose was still crooked, with an awkward lump in it from where it had broken. His ribs had healed, eventually. Learning to be still and let them heal took three re-breaks for him to catch on. His concussion had lasted almost a month, the worst of the symptoms subsiding after a couple weeks.

He picked up the paperwork in front of him again and forced himself to read it. Desk duty was dragging him down. He had always been an active field agent, wanting to be in the thick of things. Since his brush with Conner Ebbits his face had become too well known in the eastern states to work undercover. The FBI had done what they could to control his exposure to the media, but the events leading up to his rescue had made the news before they could bottle it up.

He had been hounded by reporters looking for a story. He refused to talk to them, but his name and face were highly publicized throughout Ebbits' trial. It was only two months ago that Ebbits was convicted on all counts and sent to prison for life. Reed was called upon to testify to the evidence he had obtained and how he had garnered such information. In excessive detail, his assignment was picked apart and scrutinized by the defense team for Ebbits.

In the end the FBI came out on top, but Reed was now a household name. Everyone knew about the scrappy little agent that went head to head with Conner and his goons, coming out victorious, especially the criminals. So Reed had been moved back to Washington where he had originally been posted before the under cover assignment, working under Agent Toby Storm.

It was fine for the most part, but Reed was often left in the office while the rest of the team went off on their 'adventures'. He threw the report down onto his desk and sat back into the chair lifting his arms up over his head to complete the stretching of his back. His shoulder caught and he winced, before slowly bringing it back down. He cursed and rubbed his hand along the aching joint.

He got up from his chair and walked to the empty desk of Agent Storm and looked over to see if there was anything pressing he should be reviewing. There were no new message slips, but his voicemail light was blinking. Reed sighed, no way to check it. Finding nothing of interest he walked to the break room, opening up the fridge. Unlike most of his co-workers, Reed had a strong dislike of coffee. He wouldn't touch the stuff, so he kept a good supply of Hugs juices on hand. He had taken quite the ribbing for his choice in beverage, but he took it all with a smile and a nod.

After pulling a blue one from his stock, and using his teeth to puncture the foil liner, he drank half of it in one gulp. He checked his watch and noted he only had a couple hours left in the office. He needed to finish up that report and get it submitted to Agent Storm before he left today. He went back to his desk and dutifully finished the painstakingly boring paperwork.

He was placing it on Storm's desk as the phone on his own started to ring. He walked briskly across the room and picked up the receiver placing it to his ear. He glanced at the clock, hoping whoever on the other end wasn't planning on taking up too much of his time. It was almost time to go home.

Lindsay felt pain. Her temples were pounding and her head felt like it was in a vice grip. She was surrounded by blackness. There was a rhythmic hum underneath her that she couldn't quite place. She felt around her, trying to remember what had happened. Her memory was foggy at best, as she struggled to recall where she was, and why.

The shape of her surrounding confinement was intriguing to her. As she mentally pictured what her hands were feeling the sound coming from the floor was slowly beginning to make sense. She was in the trunk of a car. She clamped her eyes shut and tried to remember what had happened. Fleeting moments flashed before her mind's eye as she recalled the day.

_Work. A body. Danny. Oh my God, Danny. Shots fired. Danny was down. A man. The gun hitting her temple. Blackness. _Someone had shot Danny on the steps of the building they were working at. They were investigating the murder of the young adolescent, a teenager that had been cut down prematurely. They were discussing the case, wondering how it had all come together, and then the man approached them. They hadn't seen it coming, he had blindsided them. He had fired and Danny had gone down. That much Lindsay remembered. Then the man had struck Lindsay and her memory was blank after that.

She felt the muscles in her legs starting to cramp. She wondered if she had been in the trunk a long time, but there was no way to know. Were they just driving around the city aimlessly, or was he taking her somewhere far away? Who was he? Lindsay fought to focus on the image of him coming at her. She had been too stunned by the moment, her attention shifting to Danny as he cried out and collapsed. She hadn't gotten a good look at the man who had abducted her. She berated herself for letting panic and disorientation overtake her.

Her thoughts floated to Mac. How worried he must be. She wondered if he had shared their news with anyone by now. They had only found out she was pregnant two days ago. She remembered the moment when she told him. The joy in his eyes had been enough to bind her heart to him forever. She had not seen that kind of reaction from him in the entire time she had known him.

They had decided to keep it quiet for a while, not sure how the rest of the team, or the department would handle it. Mac had managed to keep Lindsay in the same department, how she didn't know. She figured that he had cut deals with those who owed him favors. She never asked.

And now she was trapped in the truck of a car being held by a madman. How worried Mac must be. She wondered if he would be able to withstand the burden. She knew that she had to get away, to come through this alive. There was no doubt in her mind that if she died it would destroy Mac, and that was a thought she could not take to a grave with her. No, she would fight and she would come out victorious.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and attempted to stretch her legs. There wasn't enough room. Her left calf muscle was screaming with pain as it cramped severely. She didn't know how long it had been since she had consumed any liquid. The thirsty feeling in her mouth let her know that it had been way too long. She tried to massage the left leg as best the space would allow. The cramp persisted and she cringed in pain.

Mac was unsteady as he climbed from the car. Stella had driven to Jacobi Medical Center. He was now making his way into the ER feeling a bit lightheaded. Stella came up beside him and gripped his arm tightly. His gaze shifted to land on her, giving a small smile of gratitude as she helped to steady him. Stella nodded and pushed them forward into the emergency room. Flack was standing by a row of plastic chairs with his arms crossed over his chest staring at the floor. Stella guided Mac in that direction, coming to a stop in front of Flack.

"How is he?" she asked as Mac swallowed hard and fought to clear his mind. He needed to take charge, to get his emotions under control. His worry for Lindsay, and their baby, was making him weak, unable to function. Flack gave Mac a once over before he looked at Stella.

"They got the bleeding to stop, but he needs surgery. He lost a lot of blood on the scene. The first bullet went through his left shoulder. It ripped through his Pectoral muscle and then the Trapezoid muscle. It damaged his clavicle and his scapula. The second bullet went through him here," Flack said putting to fingers on his left ribcage. "It damaged his third and forth ribs. That's all I got so far. Doc said he was going to be moved to surgery once they pumped him up with some more blood."

"He's going to ok then?" Stella asked.

"They say a full recovery, yeah," Flack said with a sigh of relief. Mac nodded slowly. He finally found his voice, starting to pull himself back together, feeling himself build a resolve around the feelings of despair he had been wrestling with.

"Don, what have you found out about Lindsay?" Mac asked trying to hold his voice steady. For the most part he succeeded, but there was still a slight quiver to it.

"Not much, Mac. We have three witnesses who say a man wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt came across the street at a job and walked straight up to Danny and Lindsay. He fired once striking Danny, before he came to them. Lindsay tried to pull her gun, but the unknown assailant was on top of Danny, stepping on his chest, with his gun pointed at Lindsay. He then struck Lindsay in the temple with the side of the gun. Witnesses say they saw her fall unconscious into the man's arms and then he tried to make his escape. Two people say that Danny made a grab for the man's leg as he dragged Lindsay away, which is what prompted the second shot."

"And Lindsay?"

"Witnesses claim Lindsay was put into the back seat of a blue or black Chevy Impala. Newer model."

"License plate number?" Stella asked hopefully.

"Well, yeah, we got one from all three witnesses."

"But?" Mac asked feeling the despair in Flack's statement.

"All three were different," Flack replied with a shrug. "Look, we'll run down Impala's that are blue or black and cross check the license numbers against what the witnesses saw. Some of what they gave us has to be right so we just narrow it down."

"Too much time," Mac mumbled as he rubbed his neck glancing around the waiting room. He was feeling slightly claustrophobic and the need for fresh air was nagging in the back of his mind. "What about the man, what kind of description?"

"Ah, well we got two people who said he had on dark blue jeans. One said stone washed. One said he had on a red Harvard Sweatshirt. One said a burgundy team shit but not sure what team it was. Another said it was an Orange football team sweatshirt. Nothing on the face, because the hood was up. We got a range of five foot eight to six foot one and weight range from one sixty to two hundred," Flack explained while shaking his head. "It's your basic witness conglomeration."

"Nothing to go on," Mac said with anger.

"We'll find her, Mac, I promise you that," Flack said with conviction. Mac looked at the younger man and watched his eyes for a moment. The determination and fierceness he saw reassured him that they would do their absolute best to find Lindsay. He nodded his thanks.

The three fell silent as they contemplated the situation. Mac was trying to desperately put together what had happened and why. He was trying to recall if there had been any out of the ordinary phone calls recently. None he thought with frustration. Lindsay hadn't mentioned anything pressing either. Mac was appalled that he couldn't come up with who would want to hurt Lindsay. Then a thought hit him like a bulldozer: what if it was meant to hurt him. What if he had inadvertently put Lindsay into harms way because a lunatic was after him?

He closed his eyes and pressed against the clamped lids. He felt the blackness overtake his mind as he took a deep breath. A comforting hand came down on his shoulder and he relaxed slightly as he managed to contain a little more of the emotions running rampant in his mind. He opened his eyes and waited for them to begin functioning again. As they cleared Stella's image filled them with a sympathetic face. He took another deep breath and nodded that he was ok. Her hand lingered a moment, before it squeezed gently, then dropped to his side. He looked around anxious to be doing something. Sitting still waiting was not what he had in mind while Lindsay was out there in the hands of a lunatic. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at it wondering who to call. Finally he recalled a number from the memory, and hoped that he was still at his desk.

"Special Agent Reed Taylor," the voice filled Mac's ear. It had a calming effect on him. He closed his eyes as he prepared to break the news.

"It's me," he said. His voice sounded broken and distraught to his own ears and he wondered what must have gone through Reed's head at that second.

"Uncle Mac, what's wrong?" he asked instantly, the concern and worry evident in his voice.

"It's Lindsay, Reed, she's missing," Mac said walking out of earshot of Stella and Flack. He leaned against a wall and fought the tears threatening to fall. Reed was silent for a moment before he answered.

"What's happened?"

"A man shot Danny Messer and kidnapped Lindsay. I'm at Jacobi Medical right now with Danny waiting on word."

"I'm coming to the city. I can be there in a couple hours."

"That'd help," Mac said feeling a need to be close to family right now.

"Don't worry, Uncle Mac, we'll bring her home."

"Reed?"

"Yeah?"

"She's pregnant," Mac said with desperation in his voice.

"I'll be there in a couple hours," Reed said hurriedly as he replaced the receiver. When he looked up he noticed that his team had come back from the field. His boss and two fellow agents were watching him closely as he pushed from his desk and gathered his stuff. He walked to his boss's desk and stopped staring at the floor as he put his thoughts into words. When he looked up he saw the deep concern in Storm's eyes.

"I have to go to New York," Reed said as he started to walk away.

"What's wrong, Reed?" Storm asked. The concern was evident and Reed knew that Storm regarded him like a son. Reed had great respect and admiration for Storm. He turned and faced the older agent holding back the tears in his eyes.

"Uncle Mac needs me right now. Lindsay Monroe is missing and he needs my help."

Storm simply nodded as memories of a year ago floated through his mind. He had seen the strong connection between Mac Taylor and his subordinate Lindsay Monroe as they looked for Reed. He watched as Reed hurried from the room and was gone from sight. He made a promise to himself to contact Reed later that night to see how things were going.

TBC…


	3. Contact

**Disclaimer on chapter one.**

**AN: Yay! Look I finally wrote chapter three. So tell me what you think. dark rolling sea.

* * *

**

Chapter Three: Contact

Lindsay felt the light hit her before she saw it. Her eyes had been closed when she felt the vehicle stop suddenly. She was tossed forward, colliding with the back seat. A grunt had escaped her as she rolled her body back into the open space on the trunk. Her head throbbed as she felt a hand come down on her. She opened her eyes and stared up at the shadowy figure attempting to pull her body from the trunk.

Their eyes met for a brief second before she saw his gun swinging down on her once again. She tried frantically to pull her arms from under her, but they were weighted down by the man's grip. The gun slammed into her temple as fireworks exploded behind her eyes and a wave of nausea rippled through her stomach, before the darkness enveloped her completely.

* * *

Mac sat in the hard plastic chair staring at his hands. He was leaning forward; elbows perched on his knees, waiting for news. Stella was too his right, her hand settling gently on his shoulder. Flack and Hawkes had returned to the lab to process everything from both crime scenes. They all believed that they were somehow connected.

The only word they had received on Danny was that they had transported him to the surgical ward. That had been three hours ago. Mac had wanted to return to the lab with Hawkes, but Stella had insisted that they stay with Danny. After a brief protest that he should be looking for Lindsay, Stella convinced him that he was too close to the case and needed to let the rest of the team handle it. He had resigned to the idea, even though he didn't like it.

Movement by the door caught Mac's eye. He slowly brought his line of sight up, glancing casually at the doorway. He couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips when he saw Reed standing just inside the waiting room watching him. He felt Stella's hand slip from his shoulder, before he saw her cross his line of sight. She walked to Reed and embraced him, exchanging greetings as they did so. Mac slowly stood from the hard chair and watched as Reed made his way across the room.

"Came as soon as I could," Reed said.

"Danny's still in surgery. Lindsay is…" Mac explained, his voice cracking in the end. Reed nodded as he looked around the room.

"Rest of the team working?" he asked the two CSIs in the room.

"Yes. Sheldon and Flack went back to process the evidence," Stella responded. Reed nodded slowly before he turned his attention on Mac.

"I'll help if you want," he stated firmly. Mac studied his nephew's eyes before answering.

"This wouldn't be FBI jurisdiction," Mac said half heartedly.

"I'll freelance. Outside expert on kidnapping," Reed countered.

"You should be here with him," Stella answered softly.

"Lindsay needs me more and he's in no condition to help," Reed said looking at Stella. "Besides someone needs to stay here with Danny."

"You joining my team?" Mac asked.

"I've got outside resources we can use, Uncle Mac. My team in DC will help out with things too. Let me work with your team and we'll bring Lindsay home."

Mac was contemplating the offer when a man wearing green scrubs entered the waiting room. Mac broke his gaze from Reed's eyes and landed it on the newcomer. Stella stepped up next to Mac, the anticipation noticeable on her face. Reed turned so he could watch all three people in the room. The doctor glanced from face to face before he began.

"I'm Doctor Weston. I was one of the doctors that worked on Detective Messer," he began. Mac held his breath as he stared a hole in the doctor's face. His eyes were glassed over. Stella took hold of his hand and squeezed gently, drawing him out again. He glanced sideways at her and when he looked back at the doctor he could see a bit of relief wash over the doctor's face. Reed stood as a statue waiting for more.

"How is Danny?" Stella asked trying to coax the doctor to speak faster. The man nodded once, taking a breath before he continued.

"He is finally out of surgery. We've managed to put him back together and stabilize him. He should make a full recovery in time."

Mac closed his eyes and pursed his lips as he let out the air trapped in his lungs. Stella squeezed his hand tightly as she smiled at the doctor. Reed stepped up next to his uncle and wrapped a tender arm across his shoulders. The doctor nodded once, told them where they could find Danny, then excused himself.

Mac felt some of the pressure inside lift, but not enough. Knowing Danny was going to recover his mind instantly focused on Lindsay. Reed and Stella both saw the shift and shared a glance with each other. Mac pulled his cell phone from a pocket and speed dialed Flack. He waited impatiently for the younger detective to answer.

"Flack," Mac said after the line was finally answered. "Danny is out of surgery and in time will make a full recovery. What have you got on Lindsay."

Stella gently reached for, and successfully removed, his phone. Mac cut her with a glare as he started to protest. Stella easily handed the phone off to Reed, before pulling Mac to the side. Reed took over the conversation with Flack as they filled each other in on what they knew. Mac continued to glare at Stella wondering what she was trying to pull.

"You're too close on this one, Mac, hell we all are. We shouldn't even be investigating this one. You _know_ that. I know you won't give up the case completely, but you really need to step back and let us work," Stella explained gently. Mac waited for her to finish before he glanced at Reed.

"No, I'm working this just like any other case. Take it or leave it, Stell. Reed, what'd Flack have to say," he barked at his nephew as he watched the young man snap the phone shut. Reed looked up and sighed.

"Nothing to go on as of yet. They're running the plate numbers that were reported, trying to get a match. They're running them against dark colored Impalas registered in New York and New Jersey. They found the brass at the scene from Danny's attack and are running them to see if anything comes up. Otherwise, they're…"

"Just waiting," Mac sighed out. He rubbed his face and looked over the room. He suddenly stood and walked out leaving Reed and Stella staring at each other. Reed's shoulders drew up and then slumped as Stella gave him a look. They both scrambled after Mac, finding him standing in the doorway to Danny's room. They hung back as Mac made his way to the bedside. Danny was still unconscious as Mac watched over him.

* * *

He struggled against her weight. He didn't realize how much 'dead' weight dragged against you when you carried it. He had managed to arrive at his safe house undetected, which please him. She had awoken in the trunk, but he made sure she was out again before he pulled in from the container.

Now he had her in a padded, completely enclosed room, where no one would find her. He smiled to himself as he slid the door closed, clicking the three locks into place one at a time. His anger and pain had aged over the years, growing and festering in his chest. This was only the first step. Next was to draw one Mac Taylor into the open to complete his plan.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, giving him a high as he leaned against the wall. All the years of planning and waiting were going to finally pay off. His revenge would be complete and he would be whole again. He knew he was getting too worked up. He would need to do something to keep himself in check, but for now he rode the high. Later he would begin, but first he would take a nap. He would need his rest. His strength needed to remain in high swing if he were to endure what was about to begin.

Retreating to a room next door, he stripped his clothing and laid face down naked on the bed. The cool air around him caused goose bumps to sprout on his skin, but he made no move to cover his chilling body. He fell asleep shortly after laying down, thrown into fitful dreams of what was to come.

* * *

Mac and Stella stood by Danny's bedside a few hours later as he regained consciousness. He looked around frantically, catching the faces of his colleagues he knew something awful had happened. He tried to sit up but the lightning pain contorted his face as he whimpered and crashed back down to the bed. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Don't try to get up, Danny, you took two bullets," Mac said as he pulled his hand back. "It'll take time but you'll heal."

"Lindsay," he breathed out as he searched the room, only finding Mac's nephew.

"She's been kidnapped," Stella answered softly. Danny felt the tears coming to his eyes as he licked at his dry lips. He squeezed them shut and balled his hands into fists.

"My fault," he whispered.

"No it's not," Stella said firmly.

"Danny, do you remember who did this?"

"He, ah, he," Danny tried. They could see the pain and fatigue in his eyes. "He had on a sweatshirt, a hoodie. I couldn't see his face. Came too quickly."

He had to stop to catch his breath and Stella looked at Mac. Mac was staring down at Danny, but not really seeing him.

"What about the car, Danny, did you see the car?"

"No, Mac, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mac replied nodding slowly. He took a deep breath and turned from the room, leaving Stella and Reed behind once again. The two exchanged looks before saying goodbye to Danny and scurrying to catch up with Mac. The three left the hospital and headed for the lab, calling Flack on the way. He still didn't have information for them and Mac was getting frustrated.

* * *

Lindsay woke to a dark cold room. She felt her body rack with shivers as she touched the side of her head gingerly. Pain rocketed across her skull and she quickly withdrew her hand. She groaned and rolled onto her back, stretching her limbs as she did. She glanced at her fingers and noticed the sticky blood coating them.

She sat up slowly, but the wave of nausea made her lay back down quickly. Her temples throbbed and her eyes were blurry. She knew she had a pretty decent concussion going. She took a few deep breaths to settle her body before attempting to sit up again. The second time was a little more successful, even though she had to fight the pain and nausea.

She looked around the dark room slowly. There were no windows and only one door. The walls looked to be padded and Lindsay's heart sank. She realized she was in a sound proof environment. She checked her pockets, nothing. He had her gun, badge, and cell phone. She wrapped her arms tighter around her body to fight off the cold, but still couldn't contain the shivers that convulsed through her entire body.

She thought about Mac and how worried he must be. She thought about Danny and hoped he was alright. She knew the team must be working diligently to find her and she just hoped they came soon. She attempted to stand but the wave of dizziness the swept over her knocked her down. She landed hard on her left knee and elbow and let out a strangled cry. She felt the skin break on her elbow and the trickle of blood flow down her forearm.

The first signs of panic were nibbling at her mind. She felt her breathing eradicate and her hands started to shake, other than the shivers. She swallowed down the urge to scream, as the first tears came to her eyes. They tumbled down her face, as she sat back against the wall and cradled her legs rocking back and forth.

* * *

He woke slowly from his slumber, his naked body still exposed to the cold air. He sat up and looked into the full length mirror on the wall at the end of his bed. His smile told him it was time to begin the game. He reached down and grabbed the jeans he had worn earlier in the day and pulled out two cell phones. He tossed his own onto the bed and opened the lady detectives instead.

Detective Taylor's number was easy to find, it was the first one on speed dial. He couldn't stop the sneer that expanded over his lips as he pressed send. He could just imagine his foe's face as he saw this number appear on caller ID. He waited patiently.

"Lindsay?!" came the hopeful but strangled voice from the other side.

"Guess again," he leered into the phone as all the anger resurfaced upon hearing Taylor's voice.

"Who is this?" the detective hissed.

"I have something you want," he replied coolly as he watched himself in the mirror. He was beginning to become aroused.

"Where is she?" came the harsh reply.

"Now, now, being rude won't get you what you want."

"I'll find you, and when I do, you'll be sorry."

"Oh I have no doubt you'll find me, but what will you find when you do?"

"What do you want?"

"You, Detective Taylor. I want you. I'm going to assume you don't recognize my voice. I wonder if you'd recognize my face."

"Who are you?"

"You're the CSI you tell me," he replied before snapping the phone closed. He reopened it on second thought and hit the power button, before tossing it aside. He stood from the bed and walked to the small bathroom. He was fully aroused now and needed a shower to cool himself off. Later the real fun would begin; he couldn't remove the smile from his face.

TBC…


	4. Progress

**Disclaimer on chapter one.**

**AN: Another chapter here for your reading pleasure. Glad you liked the last one and are enjoying this story. Hope this one makes par. Tell me what you think! dark rolling sea.

* * *

**

Chapter Four: Progress

Mac looked at the phone before walking into the lab. He instructed Hawkes to trace Lindsay's cell phone, before turning to Flack. Stella and Reed came up slowly behind them.

"Flack, it's about me. He knows me," Mac began.

"Jeez, Mac, it could be hundreds and people," Flack replied before he could stop himself. The look Mac shot at him made Flack drop his eyes. Reed stepped up next to them and settled a hand on his uncle's shoulder.

"It has to be something serious. He had a lot of rage behind his voice. He wants me to suffer," Mac explained as he ground his teeth together.

"Check out recent cases that have been released," Reed said as he stepped in front of Mac. "Look for anyone that has reason to hold a grudge that just recently left the system."

"How do we know this is just recent," Stella said. "And was there a connection to the murder of the teenager that Lindsay and Danny were working."

"Witnesses seemed to think that the man was waiting for them. Possibly he set up the scene to draw Lindsay or Mac out," Flack pointed out.

"My relationship with Lindsay isn't common knowledge," Mac said softly grabbing everyone's attention.

"You don't think it's and inside job, do you?" Flack asked hesitantly.

"No, but he has been watching me," Mac replied closing his eyes. "He had to have been studying me, watching us, mapping our routines."

"Check other open unsolved cases," Reed said. Flack nodded as he pulled out his cell phone. "Anything similar, look for method of kill, staging of crime scene, that sort of thing. Find out who the victim is."

"You taking over this show?" Stella asked with a smile as Reed's face flushed a light pink.

"Sorry, forgot where I was," Reed replied sheepishly with a shrug.

"No by all means, continue. You're on a roll," Stella teased. The mood then returned to somber as they thought about their next move as a team. Mac was standing staring at the floor as he battled the fear and panic inside him. Reed motioned to Stella and she nodded.

Reed then took hold of Mac from one side while Stella gently gripped his elbow on the other, and the two started to lead him from the lab. He seemed to go willingly to start, but just as they were about to steer him through the doors he awoke from his stupor.

"What are you doing?" he ground out at them. Reed stopped them and let out a breath before he looked his uncle in the eye.

"Look, you're in no condition to lead this investigation. You need to let us work the case, Uncle Mac."

"He's right, Mac. We'll find her and bring her home. We can't afford," Stella continued.

"I'm all right to work this," he said bitterly as he pulled away from both of them. But he felt his emotions slip as the panic rat finally overtook him and he leaned against the wall.

* * *

Lindsay dabbed at her elbow, wincing at the stinging of her scraped flesh. The cold was starting to get to her as she shivered, her brain starting to slow. She shook her head and looked around. She needed to concentrate on something, anything to keep herself alert. She closed her eyes and thought back to the crime scene.

She replayed what she could remember of what happened and grew angry with herself for letting it. She opened her eyes and blew out an angry breath as she smacked her hands off her shins. She felt completely helpless. She had no idea how long it had been since she had been abducted, and no way of finding out either.

Her stomach started to grumble and her throat was dry. She stood slowly and walked the small space of the room, looking for anything that might help her. The room was stripped bare. There was nothing but dust.. She needed to come up with a plan. _Focus_ she thought to herself.

The door opened into the room. She wouldn't have much of an advantage over someone coming in. There was nothing she could use as shelter to hide behind. She thought of feigning unconsciousness on the floor and waiting for someone to approach her, but she didn't know if the element of surprise would be enough. The more she thought the angrier she grew at letting herself get caught in a situation like this.

* * *

The shower had cooled him off. He dressed in a pair of dark cargo jeans and a loose fitting grey hooded sweatshirt. He double checked the locks on the door holding his captive then headed towards the outside. The cool air hit him and he smiled. His day had come. Years of planning was finally happening. He started off at a slow jog; taking a route that he had run everyday, rain or shine, for three years.

As with every other time he ran, he continued to increase his pace with each half mile, until he was sprinting for the final mile. After the seven mile course he was back at the house, covered in sweat once again, and full of energy. He went to her door and slowly clicked the locks back one at a time. He readied his mind for anything she might pull. He knew she was going to be a difficult one to contain and control, but he was ready. The door slowly slid open and he found her huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The look of anger and fear that contorted her face made his smile split into a teeth showing grin.

"Hello," he said sweetly. He watched her recoil, shifting her body closer to the wall. He walked up in front of her and squatted down to her level, the grin growing maniacal. He watched her study his eyes and he let her, knowing the effect he was having on her.

"Who are you?" she asked in an angry hiss.

"Someone," he replied softly with a sigh. "Someone who was wronged."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because he deserves it."

"Why me?"

"Because it hurts him," he replied as if he was talking to a child. He couldn't understand why she didn't understand. It was hurting Detective Taylor to have her here, she was just collateral damage.

"Who?"

"Detective Taylor."

Here face twisted into shock and then anger as she processed his last words. She reached out to smack him but he was ready. Grabbing her forearm, he squeezed, applying enough pressure to make her whimper. He showed her his physical strength, letting her know that she would not out muscle him.

She then tried to yank her arm back, and with a smile he pulled it the other way with more force than necessary. She cried out in pain drawing another grin from him. The anger heating her eyes made him lean in a little closer, stopping a mere inch from her. The intimate positioning arousing him once again, as he thought of what Detective Taylor would think.

"Fight all you want," he whispered to her. Lindsay swallowed the bile in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. He leaned slightly closer and sniffed at her, making Lindsay shrink further back against the wall. He then released her arm and stood, turning swiftly and exiting the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

He clicked the locks back into place and leaned against the door for a moment. He then went to the kitchen and began preparing a meal for himself. Once he was finished eating he fixed a simple sandwich and a glass of water and carried it to the room. He undid the locks and placed the plate just inside the door before locking it up again.

* * *

Lindsay stared at the food he had placed just inside the room. She was starting to feel the hunger but she didn't want to give into him. She knew she needed to eat to stay strong, but accepting anything from the man that held her made her stomach turn. She bit at her lower lip, attempting to hold back the tears as she hugged herself in the darkness that was her dungeon.

She closed her eyes as her cheeks grew increasingly more wet, attempting to focus her brain on something other than her current situation. She conjured up Mac in her mind and started to tell him how scared she was. She felt the fear lifting a little, so she continued to talk to him. Soon she found herself speaking out loud, her eyes closed, seeing Mac sitting next to her. It made things a little more bearable.

She finally stopped her confessions, ducking her head to her knees and letting the tears of the day flow freely, praying that she was found quickly. The silence around her was unnerving, as she heard the blood flowing through her ears. The dull thudding of her heart, sounded like a pounding drum as no other sound came in from the outside.

She felt the walls closing in on her as she attempting to remain calm. She continued to tell herself that everything would be ok, Mac would come, the team would find her. Precious moments floated by as she tried to escape into the alternate reality in her mind. She pictured the bed, Mac next to her, under the covers and safe from the lunatic in the other room.

She had no concept of time, aside from the grumbling of her stomach and the parchment of her throat. There was no knowing how long she had been captive. The man had seemed completely foreign to her. There was nothing about him that she recognized and she wondered how his and Mac's paths had crossed in the past.

* * *

Mac stood in the lab, his mind racing, attempting to figure out who was on the phone. Hawkes had come back to him, letting him know Lindsay's phone had been switched off and was therefore untraceable. He had then added softly that they would monitor it to see if it turned on again. Mac had simply nodded.

Flack had recruited a few boys in blue to help him run down some of the bigger names that Mac had dealt with, mainly the mob connections. Stella and Reed had begun comparing the open unsolved cases that had hit on their search. They were slowly making their way, weeding out cases. Their main criteria for keeping a case were when and where the crime was committed. They know the mad man was attempting to draw either Mac or Lindsay into the open; it wouldn't make sense for him to commit a crime that they wouldn't investigate.

"Eliminate anything I or Lindsay worked," Mac said coming up behind Stella.

"We have, Mac," Stella said with a smile. "We've narrowed it down to the last six months."

"Six months?"

"He's been at this a while," Reed said a little discouraged. "And for some strange reason Danny, Hawkes, and Stella have all taken these cases, but never you or Lindsay."

"And we've never connected them?"

"There are seven open unsolveds, counting this newest one. None of the victims have ever been IDed. No suspects have ever come up. The MOs are all different, from street hustlers to homeless kids, from a forced drug overdose to this latest GSW to the head," Reed explained.

"How do you know it's all him?"

"We're not sure, we're guessing. But it's the only thing that…" Stella responded.

"We're still no closer to figuring out who he is," Mac breathed out as his fists clenched at his sides.

"We're still looking, Uncle Mac," Reed replied.

Mac simply nodded and walked away from the two. Reed watched him until he was out of the lab before he turned and looked at Stella. She had been watching Mac as well and he saw the worry and fear etched in her face. He reached over and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"We'll find her and everything will be ok," he said softly. She looked at him and gave him a small weak smile and nodded. They both turned back to the computer at the same time, focusing on the task at hand.

TBC…


	5. A Lead

****

Disclaimer on chapter one.

**AN: Hey guys, so sorry for the year delay, hope people are still out there reading this. Things just got really rough in my life for a while, and I don't know how often I can update, but I am going to try to write more often to help with everything else, so enjoy this, and I'll try to keep it going. Comments are appreciated, dark rolling sea.**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Five: A Lead

Mac stared at the computer screen absently reading over the cases displayed there. His mind was elsewhere, thoughts and memories of Lindsay cruising through at high speed. His brain was on overdrive, as he tried to control the flow of information, while still trying to concentrate on the case at hand. He was beginning to see the reason behind everyone else's concern. Maybe he wasn't fit to work this in his condition. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. His life was hanging by a thread and he had no idea how to fix it.

He desperately pushed Lindsay to the side for the moment and racked his brain on who would want to hurt him. Flack's comment rang in his ears, and he had to admit, it was the truth. He'd been a cop a long time; there were many people who had reason to hold a grudge against him. He thought about the voice, and what the man had said. The man knew Mac wouldn't recognize his voice so he made no effort to disguise it; maybe it wasn't someone Mac had had direct contact with. Something else struck Mac suddenly, the kidnapper had thought Mac wouldn't recognize him if he saw him.

There was something there that Mac thought might be worth looking into. Maybe it wasn't someone he had personally arrested, maybe it was someone connected with someone he had arrested. He slammed his fist on the desk top; that just opened the suspect list up tenfold. He then had another thought, if it was someone related, and then there had to be a stressor for the action. They had found connections at least six months back that they thought were part of this man's actions to catch Lindsay, so when had the stressor taken place? Mac felt someone watching him and he turned to see Reed standing off to his left. His nephew seemed to be studying him, and he felt a little unnerved.

"What's up, Uncle Mac?" Reed asked as he stepped closer.

"I was just thinking," Mac replied turning back to the computer and closing the window he had been reviewing. "Maybe it's not someone I arrested. Maybe it's someone that knows someone I arrested. Maybe it's someone who has a beef with me because I took someone else away."

"Like a disgruntled son?"

"Or brother, friend, lover, who knows."

"That's opens up the search tenfold."

"You think I don't know this?"

"Ok, suppose your right, we'd need a stressor right?"

"Yes, something had to happen that he decided to pay me back. Unless it's a recent case, then that would be the stressor."

"Do you think you know the perp?"

"No. He was sure I wouldn't recognize his voice, and he was pretty sure I wouldn't know him if I saw him."

"So you think it's recent? Or has he had time to fester over it?"

"I just don't know, Reed. I just don't know."

"Ok. Let's look into your arrest record. Anyone you arrested go on death row?"

"Surely. I've arrested a number of murderers, rapist, among others."

"Did one get the needle recently?"

"I don't know. I don't tend to follow that once I'm done in the court. It's not something that I have to be involved with."

"I'll have Flack and Stella look into it. And anyone that might have been killed, or died while inside in the last year to year and a half."

"It's got to be something."

"Was there anyone that you personally killed in your duties?"

"I've been involved in a number of police shootings, there were two that died."

"Who were they?"

"They were both years and years ago. Nothing recent."

"Who were they?"

"Robert Thasher and Donald Williamson," Mac replied as he closed his eyes. "Reed, they were both clean shootings. I was cleared. Both men would have been convicted in a court of law."

"I know, Uncle Mac, but sometimes grieving family and friends don't understand that. They don't care. All they see is that you took away their loved one."

"So now he's taking away mine."

"Do you think he knows Lindsay is pregnant?" Reed asked quietly. Mac's eyes snapped up to Reed's as anger and pain flashed across them. Mac felt his chest tighten and his airways constrict as his breathing became increasingly more difficult.

"I just don't know, Reed," Mac wheezed out as he fought desperately not to break down.

* * *

After giving the female detective her meal, he went outside for some cool fresh air. His mind was on fire with images and thoughts, voices buzzing around telling him what he had to do. Punish Mac Taylor for what he did. There was always one voice that spoke above the rest, one that was the easiest to hear and listen to, and listen he did.

That voice was the one telling him what he must do, and he did everything that voice told him to, well almost everything. He had restrained himself where it concerned the woman. The voice had told him to fuck her, to make it as bad for Taylor has he possibly could, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, yet. His body reacted when he was around her, that was no secret, but for some reason he found it hard to proceed. The voice would grow angry afterward. That one voice, it would haunt him for the rest of his life, this he knew, because he would never hear it in person again. He was gone, and Mac Taylor had taken him away.

An hour had passed and the voice was telling him to go to the girl once again. He walked inside and stood staring at the locks. All he had to do was undo the locks, step inside and follow through with the voices plan. He felt his penis respond to the thoughts, hardening and growing with each thought, but again he stopped himself. The time wasn't right he told the voice, it just wasn't right yet. He took a step back and undid his belt, causing his pants to hit the floor. He closed his eyes and saw the girl on the other side of the wall, huddled on the bed. He let his imagination run wild, seeing what he would do if he would let his restraints fall.

* * *

Lindsay finally decided that for her strength and the good of the baby, she had to eat his food. She downed the sandwich quickly and chugged the glass of water. She then returned to the bed and huddled against the wall, hugging her knees. Time had no concept in this room and she was growing very disoriented. She knew that was the man's idea, to keep her off balance and subdued. She had nothing to fight back with and after her last encounter with him, she knew there was no way she could out muscle him, no matter how much element of surprise she had on her side.

He was strong, much stronger than she. She might have the edge for a moment, but he would quickly turn the tides on her, and then who knows what he would do. The thought of that made her shiver, causing her to pull herself closer in. She put her head down on her knees and cried, feeling absolutely helpless in her current situation. There was nothing she could do and it tore at her insides. She just hoped the Mac came soon and rescued her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone outside the door. She could see a shadow from the crack underneath and she steeled herself for what was to come. She knew the man wanted her, and what he could do to her if he decided to take her. That thought made her crazy with fear and anger. She prepared for the worst, but it didn't happen. The door didn't open, but the shadow moved back. She knew he wasn't gone she could still her him breathing on the other side, but he was no longer in front of the door. She heard something light hit the floor, and then after a few moments soft grunting began. Lindsay closed her eyes and cried silently that Mac hurried.

* * *

After his conversation with his uncle, Reed left him alone and went to find Stella. He ran into her talking with Detective Flack and he approached the two slowly. He thought about what he wanted to say and Stella looked at him, stopping her conversation.

"What wrong?"

"Nothing, well, that's…anyway, I talked with Uncle Mac." Reed stumbled through. He shook his head slowly before he continued. "We need to look for someone that may have died as a result of Mac arresting them. Anyone on death row that was executed, someone that was killed in prison, or died of a result of going to prison, inside whatever. Also anyone that Mac may have killed before they could be sent to prison."

"What are you saying that it's not necessarily someone that Mac arrested?" Flack asked.

"We think it could be someone related to someone who Mac had dealings with. In that case it opens up the suspect pool beyond what we can look at," Reed replied with a heavily depressed tone. Stella wrapped an arm around the young man's shoulders.

"We'll find something; the man already contacted us once. He wants to torment Mac, so he'll be in contact again. He'll make a mistake and we'll be ready to pounce," Stella said reassuringly.

"I sure hope so, Stella, because if something were to happen to Lindsay or the baby, Uncle Mac would be devastated," Reed breathed out.

"Whoa, what baby?" Flack asked confused. Reed looked up suddenly and realized that he had made a mistake. The news hadn't been made public yet and he glanced at Stella. The look in her eye told Reed that she had known and he breathed a sigh of relief for a second before he thought about what to tell Flack. He also noticed Sheldon Hawkes stopping behind Flack with a confused look on his face.

"Whose baby?" Hawkes asked.

Reed was about to open his mouth, feeling like his gut was twisting in circles when Mac walked up to the group and stared at them. Reed gave him an apologetic look as Mac managed a small smile.

"It's ok, Reed, I guess they should all know," Mac replied softly. "Lindsay is pregnant."

Flack stared dumb struck at Mac, as Sheldon nodded slowly as the news sunk in. Neither one said a word as Stella looked on waiting for someone to break the silence. Flack finally found his voice after a few moments.

"Uh, that's great Mac, congrats," he said half heartedly. News that should have been wonderful was overshadowed by the fact that Lindsay, and now baby, were missing. Sheldon sighed and nodded, unsure of what to say. Mac turned and left, his emotions running afire once again.

"We got to find this asshole," Sheldon said roughly.

"Let's keep looking."

"Stella," Hawkes said as the group started to break up. All three stopped and turned to Sheldon, waiting for him to continue.

"Yeah?"

"I was looking closely at those cases that we sorted out, the ones that were unsolved."

"And?"

"Well they all seemed unconnected, until I found something that seems rather odd in some of them."

"What's that?" Reed asked the excitement of something positive breaking into his voice.

"Well I only noticed it because I was looking into everything Mac has worked on. And I just happened to manage to come across a case and something just struck me as funny so I started to dig a little deeper. It took me a while and I thought I came up with something, but then I saw that the man had died, so I don't know if…"

"Tell us about it, Sheldon," Reed said excitedly. "Everything you know. When did the man die?"

"Well what caught my attention in the first place was the manner of his crimes. His MO was always a little bit different which is why it took the NYPD so long to catch him. He evolved as he went, and some of the unsolved crimes that we think are connected to Mac and Lindsay match."

"In what ways?"

"Identical, three of them. The others don't really add up at all, I mean they're not even close so maybe they have nothing to do with this, but three of them are almost exactly like those that Mac worked on with this guy."

"Who is it?" Flack asked.

"Well it was Alvin Eskridge," Hawkes replied.

"Eskridge?" Stella asked as her voice raised a pitch. "These cases match Eskridge?"

"Who is Eskridge?" Reed asked apparently the only one out of the loop.

"About ten years ago, Alvin Eskridge went on a killing spree in Manhattan. He targeted the rich, killing them in different ways. When asked why he did it he said God told him to kill those people and he was just following orders. Mac worked the case for the second half, the first detective was killed in the line of duty," Stella replied. "Eskridge was finally apprehended when Mac personally tracked him down and arrested him. Eskridge never felt remorse for what he did, and said he would have continued killing if that was what God had chosen for him."

"He did continue killing," Sheldon continued. "While in prison he was suspected of killing two inmates, neither case could be proved, nor did anyone see anything."

"You said he's dead?" Reed asked.

"Yes. He died in prison a year ago," Sheldon answered.

"How, he get the needle?" Flack asked.

"No. He was on death row, but the details of his death are a little sketchy. The prison reported it as a heart attack."

"But you think otherwise?" Stella asked.

Sheldon shrugged his shoulders. "It's not me that thinks otherwise. There was controversy over an autopsy being done. In the end one wasn't done and the body was buried by the family. The prison kept a very tight leash on what was said and what was not."

"You think fowl play?" Flack continued.

"No, but it's all very suspicious and someone related to Eskridge might think the prison covered up a murder," Sheldon countered. "Just a thought."

"I think we need to dig further into Eskridge. Find out who visited him in prison, or who wrote or received letters from him if we can. See what connections he had on the outside, family, friends, colleagues. Someone that knew him might have a grudge to settle," Stella replied. They split up after deciding who looked into what and each dug into the situation at hand. Reed went to find Mac to tell him what they had come across.

TBC…


	6. Pain

**Disclaimer on chapter one.**

**AN: Much quicker this time, although it did take me a while to figure this one out. Tell me what you think, as always. dark rolling sea.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Pain**

Stella hurried to catch up with Mac, and found him in his office. He was sitting with his head hanging to his chest, eyes closed, quietly meditating. She let herself in and came around his desk, taking a seat on the corner, waiting for him to look up at her. When he didn't, she cleared her throat, grabbing his attention.

"What is it?" Mac asked after seeing the excitement in Stella's eyes.

"Hawkes might have found a good lead."

"Who?"

"Alvin Eskridge," Stella said watching Mac for his reaction. His eyes hardened and he looked away from her. She watched as his breathing became slightly harsher, his fists pumping slightly.

"Impossible. Eskridge died last year…"

"A stressor for someone else to seek you out," Stella interrupted. Mac could only stare at her. After waiting for that to sink in, Stella continued. "Do you remember anyone that was around all the time? During the investigation, during the trial?"

"It was a long time ago. I remember tracking him down, arresting him, testifying. There were lots of people around, it was a big case."

"No one sticks out in your memory? Someone always in support of Eskridge, maybe just off the front row?"

"I don't remember, Stel," Mac ground out shaking his head.

"Ok. Sheldon is contacting the prison to see if he can still get records on who visited Eskridge while he was still alive. Reed is going through the trial footage, looking for reoccurring faces, Flack is digging into Eskridge's personal life, looking for someone who…"

"Might hold a grudge," Mac said quietly.

"Right."

"I'll let you know if someone comes to mind," Mac replied with a sigh. Stella squeezed his shoulder gently before she walked out of his office.

* * *

Danny lay in the hospital bed staring at the ceiling replying the day in his head. The guilt was starting to overwhelm him as he saw the man take Lindsay over and over again. He concentrated on his memories of the moment, but became exceedingly frustrated that each time the man was a little bit different. He couldn't nail down what he saw, everything happened to fast for his memory to imprint.

Breathing became increasingly more difficult, as his chest tightened with each passing second of agonizing over what he missed, feeling the room closing in around him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he struggled to stay calm. Panic and fear threatened to take over, making him shake and tremble. His breaths came in short spasms as he fought to stay coherent. Suddenly the room was filled with an alarm and a nurse rushed to his side with a needle.

"Don'a wan' that," he choked out while gasping for breath.

"It'll help you calm down, Mr. Messer," the nurse replied before administering the shot. Danny clenched his eyes closed and felt the medication slowly taking affect. His breathing slowed and the trembling subsided, before he drifted into a nightmarish sleep.

* * *

Sheldon hung up the phone with the prison and shook his head. He turned to find Reed studying the computer screen, while Flack was talking quietly on his cell phone in the corner of the room. Stella came in looking slightly depressed and Sheldon felt the weight in the room that was slowly crushing all of them.

"I just talked to the prison where Eskridge was held," Sheldon said once Flack hung up. All three stared at him anticipating something more, so he continued. "They didn't have any records on hand, but they would do a search and talk to some of the other inmates housed with him to see if they can find something for us."

"I was on the phone with Eskridge's lawyer from the trial," Flack took over. "He kept pulling client privilege crap with me, but he did say he would check into his files for next of kin and get back to me."

"My eyes are crossing after reviewing all this footage. I'm not even half way through but there are a few people that keep recurring, problem is I think they belong there. I'm going to continue to search and see if I can come up with something else," Reed added.

"Keep at it; we have to find something fast. Lindsay is depending on us," Stella replied with a nod.

* * *

After he had finished in the hallway he pulled his pants up and walked away. He would not give in, not yet. He had to keep his mind steady, avoid making a mistake that could cost him everything. The girl played heavily on his mind and knew that if he hurt her, he would hurt Detective Taylor deeply.

He went to his kitchen and stood at the window, thinking about the one person he would ever love, and never see again. Tears came to his eyes as the voice spoke in his head again; telling him he had to finish this, he had to hurt Taylor to feel whole again. He nodded vigorously and slammed his fist through the window. When he retracted his hand blood oozed from the multiple cuts in his skin.

He stared at his mutilated fingers and grinned as the blood dropped to the floor. Minutes passed before he turned the sink on and stuck his wounded hand under the stream. A towel hung on the stove and he reached for it, wrapping it around his fingers, pressing tightly. Once the bleeding had slowed, he removed the towel and went to his bathroom. In the medicine cabinet he found the gauze and antiseptic ointment.

After slathering the ointment generously over his hand he wrapped the gauze snuggly around the wounds and then headed for his garage. Once there, he found the duct tape and covered the white gauze with it to keep it in place. Satisfied with his bandaging he went back to the house and opened the door to his prisoner's room.

* * *

Lindsay continued to talk to Mac in her head. Time was of no consequence anymore, a completely foreign concept in her mind. She felt herself slipping and she concentrated on staying sane long enough for Mac to find her. She shook with fear, for herself, and for her unborn baby. She told herself she had to remain strong, had to come through this, for Mac's sake. Lindsay was sure that if anything happened to her or the baby, Mac would be devastated and might not recover. He had been through so much in his life already, and moving on had been a gigantic step for him, leaving him vulnerable.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard breaking glass from the other side of her door. Her head snapped up and she stared at the door for a long time, wondering what had happened. Fear raced through her body as she waited for the inevitable but it didn't come.

But then she saw the shadow at the door again, and she made herself as small as possible in the corner of the bed. Lindsay felt her body begin to tremble again as fear surged, and she hated herself for it. She needed to find courage to face this man, to make an escape attempt. She needed to find Mac and tell him that she was ok, to be free and let him know she wasn't in danger anymore, but her mind was foggy and caged in by the fear.

The door opened and Lindsay sucked in a deep breath as the man stood in the doorway, backlit. He didn't move and Lindsay began to wonder why he had opened the door. She noticed there was something on his hand, gray and heavy, but she couldn't see what it was. After what seemed an eternity, the man moved and Lindsay's heart jumped up a notch, racing with anticipation.

He was coming closer to her now and she could just make out his eyes in the darkness of the room. He was staring at her intently, studying her face in a way she did not like, making her skin crawl. He stopped on the edge of the bed and watched her as she drew herself tightly into the corner. She wanted him to say something, to do something, anything besides just stare at her, but that's all he did.

His eyes cut into her and tore holes, making her sweat. She wanted to scream at him, yell at him, make him do something, but she knew that's what he wanted. He wanted to see her fear and feel her lash out at him. She would give him no such satisfaction. The panic was gnawing at her now as he simply stood stock still staring at her. This was worse than anything else she thought, and then changed her mind, no it could be worse.

She waited him out holding still, except the involuntary trembling, while he stood. Finally he leaned down close to her. She could smell him, feel his breath on her face, and it made her sick to her stomach. He slowly reached out and ran a finger down her left cheek, making her wince as her stomach contracted.

His hand then migrated to her hair, as he gently petted her for a moment. She closed her eyes; waiting for the rest of what she thought was to come. This is it she thought; he was going to rape me now. The tips of his fingers slowly traced her collar bone, before gently moving down her chest. She shuddered when he came in contact with her breast, his hand closely ever so slightly over it, cradling it for a moment, before he continued his physical exploration of her body.

Her breathing became more ragged and hitched as his hand moved down her arm. He gripped her wrist, gently at first, tugging softly. When she refused to move her arm, he tightened his hand into a vice grip, making her whimper in pain, before he roughly jerked it from her knees. She felt her shoulder pop violently as he continue to twist her arm up over her head and this time the whimper became a sharp cry of pain.

She opened her eyes to see him grinning back at her as he pinned her arm above her head. He then used his other hand to rip her free arm up to the other one, holding them both firmly against the wall with his left hand before he moved his free hand back to her body.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now as she waited for him to continue. She fought violently against his restraints, but he twisted her arm once again and the shoulder exploded in a volatile pain that shattered her concentration and had her teetering on the verge of blackout. The soft graze of his fingers brought her attention back to consciousness as he continued to feel his way slowly down her stomach. When he reached her belly button she felt the bile rise in her throat as his hand laid flat against her unborn child.

"I can't yet," the man mumbled under his breath and Lindsay looked at him through prism blurred vision as the tears clouded her eyes. He spun her off the wall then, violently turning her upper body so that she was laying prone on the bed, she couldn't stop the startled gasp that escaped and he scooped her legs up with his free hand and tossed them so she was flat.

His hand moved down further, dipping into the waistband of her pants, and she lashed out with her feet, connecting with his side. He grunted with pain, before he grabbed her leg with his free hand and twisted her knee at an awkward angle making her scream out in pain as he followed it with a vicious jolt of her injured shoulder. The pain slurred her brain and slowed her reactions considerably and the thrashing stopped. Lindsay could only cry as he continued his tirade on her body. His hand moving over her crotch made her jerked with revulsion and she saw him smile with satisfaction. She thought that was the end, he was going to follow through with what he started, but he simply turned around and left the room, the locks snapping into place the last sound she heard from him.

She stayed in that position for a long time, the tears smearing her cheeks. She desperately wanted Mac, to wrap her in his arms, and keep her safe. To make the demons and the bad men go away. She wanted him to take her home, watch over her, make her feel protected. She prayed her found her fast; it was only a matter of time before that man gave in and followed through.

TBC…


End file.
